


Tell Me It's Okay

by Wingless_Swan



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode: s05e03 The Quarterback, F/F, F/M, M/M, Not Hummelberry friendly, Not Klaine Friendly, Other, season 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-10-23 14:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wingless_Swan/pseuds/Wingless_Swan
Summary: Death isn't new to Kurt Hummel. Neither is depression. In fact, numbing his own feelings is the only way for Kurt Hummel to stay strong on the outside. For everyone else. That is, until someone pushes Kurt to finally let himself mourn his own brother's death. Sebastian remembers spotting Kurt alone after David Karofsky's suicide attempt. He also remembers how sickly he looked while he was coping. The fire in his eyes that enchanted Sebastian Smythe was gone. That being said, when he hears news of Kurt Hummel suffering a true loss, he rushes blindly to Kurt's side, determined to make sure that the light inside of him doesn't go out. Chapter titles based on Paramore songs. I do not own the lyrics in the songs in chapters or the characters or the setting or pretty much anguishing written in this story.





	1. When it Rains

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little something that I've been wanting to try for a while. It's not Blaine friendly or Rachel friendly, but it's not unfriendly. I just felt Kurt's pain the most during "The Quarterback" and I honestly feel like he was more closed off than everyone else. 
> 
> The time is weird, because Sebastian is still a warbler. It is fanfiction though.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian and the rest of the Warblers find out about Finn's untimely death.

 When It Rains **  
**

 

  _"So I hear from Blaine-"_

Sebastian always felt a faint pang of irritation toward the Jeff for always bringing up Blaine Anderson and his personal life. Sure, he was a good soloist and all, but the guy was a normal fucking person. He dressed like an old man too. Besides,  _he_ was was the soloist at the moment, not Blaine. This was definitely getting old. Fast. 

"Look, guys. I know you're all in love, or even  _lust_ , with little Blaine Anderson, but we have work to do if we actually want to make it to regionals the next time we get on that stage." The lead soloist complained.

There was finally silence, but it wasn't actually satisfying. In fact, it was a bit eerie. There was something in the air that told Sebastian to second guess his scolding. He looked at Jeff, and he knew that his 'Blaine Daily' news might've been serious. The blonde was chewing his lip and twiddling his fingers. 

"What?" Sebastian questioned, anxiously.

"So remember the New Directons's ex-male lead, Finn Hudson?" Jeff began, sounding beat. 

Everyone was on the edge of their seat, trying to figure out what the Nationals champion had done to blow up the show choir blogs that only Jeff really looked at. Jeff sighed, knowing the he had to spit the words out.

"He's dead." 

The room was silent for a few beats until the boys started discussing the issue. Nick, however led the conversation, having a loud voice.

"Jesus, wasn't he just coaching the team?" Nick asked, confused. He had met Finn at Kurt's summer birthday gathering. The guy seemed like he would outlive everyone. 

"He was." Jeff confirmed. "He was also dating Rachel Berry, wasn't he? I truly feel for her." 

Sebastian was speechless at this point. He remembered trying to sabatoge the guy's group. He photo-shopped his head onto the naked body of a male wearing heels, but Finn Hudson refused to pull out of the competition. He remembered Rachel Berry planning a wedding too. She was dating Finn Hudson at the time. Finn Hudson was dead. 

Fuck.

Nick's voice freed Sebastian from his own mind when he spoke.

"I feel bad for Rachel too...but what about Kurt? Wasn't Finn his brother?"

The room was once again silent. Jeff swore under his breath and jumped to his feet. He had to check on Kurt. 

Kurt Hummel's brother died. Kurt Hummel, who he heard from Blaine, had lost his mother too, at the tender age of eight years old and almost lost his father to a heart attack. Sebastian could also remember, very well, seeing Kurt Hummel alone at the Lima Bean after David Karofsky's suicide attempt. He looked like a corpse in those moments. Sebastian could only imagine how lost he'd look now. His little gay face morphed into something more masculine and sharper, but with lips permanently pressed into a straight line and eyes heavy half lidded. The figure in Sebastian's imagination had a slight slump in his shoulders as he gripped a warm coffee cup. Sebastian could feel it from miles away, and god did he want to do something. He _had_ to do something. 

So he did.

Sebastian stumbled out of the practice room, unaware of the curious eyes watching him. He just wanted to get to Kurt Hummel.  


	2. The Tragedy, it Seems Unending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt gets acquainted with his own emotions in a very Kurt-like way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews. I hope I caught Kurt well.

**The Tragedy, it Seems Unending**

* * *

 

Kurt took deep, yet hollow breaths, as he laid out every piece of black clothing that he owned. He'd always considered black a conventional color.

 "It goes with everything!" He'd told his dad, who was concerned by Kurt's possession of a nearly all black wardrobe during his early teenage years. Now, Kurt was sick of it. He was sick with it, as the color was all he could wear. In fact, he had finally realized that black had never been a color. It was a shade, and as beautiful as the shade was, it overshadowed any color that it was layered over. Kurt looked around his old room frantically for another surface to drape his black clothing over. He realized that he still had a little less than half a closet left, and began to panic. He didn't want black. He wanted the full color wheel back. He wanted his brother, Finn. His name was Finn, and he was color.

 He was going to be sick.

 The panicked man ran the sort distance to his bathroom, stumbling over black fabric, and threw the door open, immediately throwing himself at the toilet, and emptying his stomach. Acid burned his throat, because he hadn't eaten much. He coughed and hacked, until his stomach stopped lurching, and he was strong enough to flush the contents down the toilet. He gathered himself and brushed his teeth. After putting his toothbrush back in it's holder, he caught a glimpse of himself. He stared at his reflection, for the first time in weeks. His pale skin was nearly translucent and his cheeks were even hollower, now that he hadn't been eating for at least a week. The had already been stressed out, prior to his father's choked up call, telling him the news. He had taken on his first solo project at Vogue, and he picked up extra shifts at the diner, on top of a few extra courses that he'd picked up at NYADA to catch up. The professors were all ticked, because Kurt never got the chance to learn the basics, even though he picked up faster than half of the experienced students, so they gave him extra "homework" and solo projects with outrageous and overlapping deadlines, but he got it done. Vogue, however, was a completely different story.

 Isabelle called Kurt at 2:44 am, and begged him to take on the task of interviewing and measuring a pretentious model, named Seth, who wouldn't stop making cheap innuendos _everytime_ Kurt gave him instructions. He was paid a nice sized check for the extra work, but the hours he worked that week were supposed to be his sleep allowance. Kurt was left drained and sort of emotionally wrecked, but he'd pulled everything off with exemplary results that baffled his instructors and got him a more permanent position at Vogue that paid even better than the diner. He was finally getting his rest, when he received the call that changed everything.

_The room was as dark as it could get with New York outside his window, but it was still night time, and he had finished. He'd jumped over the obstacles that New York had decided to throw at him, and he 'd  landed gracefully on his feet, and now, he could rest, before he got ready for new challenges. The pale man stretched out across his bed and let his mind run wild as he drifted off to a peaceful slumber. He was finally able to even out his breaths and fall asleep. He had no idea how long he'd been out, when his slumber was interrupted by an all too familiar ringtone._

  ** _I just called to say_**

**_I love you._ **

**_I just called to say_ **

**_How much I-_ **

  _“Dad? What’s wrong? Are you-”_

  _“Hey, Buddy. I need you to calm down okay. Your old man is…” He trailed off and took a breath. He sounded off, and it only threw Kurt off even more._

  _“We need you to get home, Kurt. They found your brother, Kurt. He’s gone.” Burt finished, choking on his words._

  _Kurt was silent, as he tried to piece together what he’d just been told. Did he have a lost brother? Finn was his only brother, and he was in college, probably partying and-_

  _Finn had been partying a lot. He hadn’t answered anyone’s calls, and everyone had been worrying. But his dad just said that they found him, so how could he be gone if they knew where he-_

  _Oh._

  _No._

  _Nonononono. Finn wasn’t-_

  _“Kurt? You still there, kid?”_

  _“Dad, where is Finn?” Kurt asked softly, not really wanting to hear the answer._

  _“Kurt- I’m so sorry, kid. Finn is gone, buddy. He’s not with us anymore.” His father sobbed._

  _Kurt glanced at his alarm clock, wondering, hoping that this could all be a dream. He could just lie back down, and wake up in the real world._

  _The part of him left that valued reality slipped out._

  _“I’ll get there as soon as I can.” He spoke softly._

  _“Okay. You be safe, kid. Call me. Please.” His dad pleaded. Kurt made a note in his head to call his father as soon as he made it to the airport._

  _"I love you.” Kurt replied. He hung up, before his dad could say it back._

* * *

He had no idea how long he'd been gripping the sink, but his fingers were cramping and his knuckles were whiter than his pale face.

 He was so confused.

 Two days ago, he was getting ready to enjoy a little peace, after working his ass off for nearly three months straight. Then his dad called with this  _nonsense._ There was no way that Finn Hudson, the leader of Lima's "Say No To Drugs" movement had overdosed on heroin and alcohol. Had Finn even been gone long enough to get into drugs? To get addicted? 

  _Stop it, Kurt. You sound so ignorant. You know that it only takes one time for it to take a turn for the worst. You were never there anyway. For all you know, he could've turned to drugs to cope as soon as he got discharged from the military._

 Still, Kurt wanted to hop in his cash car and confront his father at the funeral home where he was making funeral arrangements with Carol...for Finn. He wanted to puff out his chest, and demand to know what kind of game his father was playing, and why he'd scare his own son this way. He wanted to make him hurt the way he was hurting.

 But Kurt knew that it wasn't a joke. Denial. That's what Kurt Hummel was feeling. 

  _Denial is the second stage of grief. I'll feel anger toward people who try to make my face my feelings. I might even be ready to fight people just for bringing the topic up._

 Wow, a topic. That's all his brother had become. He was the talk of the town, now that he had failed. It was cruel though, because he hadn't just failed. he kind of fucking died. He bit the fucking bullet, and all the fucking people in the fucking hick-town, of Lima fucking Ohio couldn't find one fucking good thing to fucking say about his fucking amazing brother, Finn Fucking Hudson, who's fucking flatulence could make people smile.

  _"Fuck!"_

 Kurt, in a blind fit of rage began picking up items off of his sink and throwing them at the bathroom mirror, feeling more and more satisfied, as the mirror cracked in a different place with each throw. He was so caught up in his newfound stress-release exercise that he didn't hear his door being broken down and three very concerned men come in to  _help_ him. He was too busy trying to cover the entire mirror with white facial cremes and cracks. 

 "Kurt, stop!" One yelled. 

 So they wanted to be targets too. 

 "Ouch! Fuck, man stop throwing shit at us, we just want to help!" The whiny blonde one cried.

 "I don't need your  _fucking_ help!" Kurt screamed, chunking things in his direction, until he was tackled down. He felt a familiar warmth as he tried to break free. It had to be Blaine.

 "Kurt, baby, I'll get off of you if you just calm down. Just take a few deep breaths, okay? Let's just breathe in and-"

 "You've finally perfected the art of pinning me to flat surfaces, huh?" Kurt spat, venomously. "I didn't want it that night, but you eventually got it out of me. Are you just gonna take me now, Blaine? _Do you need my fucking ass? Is that why you won't get the hell off of-"_

 In a matter of seconds, Kurt was off of the ground, and pinned against the wall in the small space between the toilet and the sink. 

 "You watch your goddamn mouth when I'm around, Kid!" All of Kurt's senses came back to him, once he realized that he was staring into the hardened eyes of his ffranticallyDo you  _hear_ me?" He asked, frantically shaking his son by the front of his shirt. 

 Kurt was silent. He was angry, and he didn't want to speak, because he had no idea what would come out at this point, so he let his dad steel the show. 

 "I know you're hurting kid, but this? Violence? It's not you." Kurt stared at the ground, trying to read the labels on all of the jars, tubes, and bottled he's thrown. Anything to keep him from glaring into those eyes. He wasn't falling for it. With a sigh, Burt let Kurt go and left, kicking bottles out of the way. His two minions followed after him. 

 He couldn't contain the hateful snarl that ripped out of him as they all left without even glancing back at him. 

 He jumped to his feet, and decided that he was done being silent about the things he felt.

* * *

 

 He stumbled over piles of black clothing, and stomped up the stairs to find that his dad had already kicked back on the couch, and was just about to change the channel, when Kurt snatched the remote out of his hand. 

 "You gonna keep running from your  _problem,_ dad?" He challenged. He knew that he was skating on thin ice, but he also knew that he didn't have much to lose. That being said, when Burt turned those hard eyes on him, he still wanted to run away with his tail between his legs.

 "You want to start this now?" Burt questioned, quietly. "Because if this is what you're gonna do, I can send you back to New York, Kurt. Or you know what, maybe I won't. Maybe I won't pay for a  _damn_ thing, if this is how you're gonna treat me during this time. You know what happened, Kurt. You know it, and I'm sorry if you don't like the way this sounds, but you're not the only one that's hurting. You never have been, so you can cut the crap, or you can find a way back home. At this point, I don't know if I really care." He finished, drained. His son always did have a funny way of coping.

 "Only on your terms and conditions." Kurt murmured.

 Burt turned to face Kurt in his chair. Kurt had used that phrase before, and Burt still had no idea what it meant.

 "Come again?" He tried, truly wanting to hear what his son had to say,

 "Pleasing you has always come with a set of terms and conditions. If what I'm doing doesn't float  _your_ boat, then you don't care about it, and you know what, I'm done trying to make you happy. i can't even  _cope_ without it becoming a problem for you, dad. I'm just a problem that you keep running away from!" Kurt exclaimed. His father was looking at him as if he'd grown two heads, and Kurt knew that he was being irrational, but he had no control over himself anymore. 

 "You were destroying your room. I had to call Sam and Blaine to get help with funeral arrangements and a few things at the shop, because since you got here, you haven't really been  _here,_ Kurt. You got rid of all of the steak knives, you bought all purple cleaning products, you have black clothing all over your room, and now this. You're losing it, and I don't know if I can deal with it right now." Burt explained. 

 He was losing his mind.

 Burt didn't want to deal with him. Hell, he didn't want to deal with himself. 

 Kurt simply turned on his heel, and made his way back to his room to grab his keys and his wallet. On his way back down, he passed a concerned Blaine, and an agitated Sam. 

  _Fuck both of them. Better yet, they can fuck eachother._

 And he left. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Kurt finally gets in touch with the ugly sides of his emotions. He is hostile, but it's not actually all that personal. He just needs someone to blame for every emotion that he feels at the moment. He's wrong, and waaaaay out of line, but that's an ugly side of grieving. The anger can be terrible. anyway, review!!!


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